


And With a Bang

by EducationalAdmiral



Series: Hell Hath Visiting Hours [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Angels, Angst, Everyone is Dead, Going to Hell, Heaven, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Suicidal Thoughts, My First Work in This Fandom, Other, Post-Canon, Supernatural Elements, Vague descriptions of torture, Whump, idk what else to tag, this one is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EducationalAdmiral/pseuds/EducationalAdmiral
Summary: Parker's death was quiet and painless.She felt her body hit the ground and was engulfed by pain for less than a second before she was launched into a completely different setting, one that was painted white and fluffy and there were hoards of beautiful people with bright shining wings and golden necklaces, entirely different than the dark lighting of the elevator shaft that only she seemed to exist in.///Or, Parker dies and goes to Heaven, and meets up with her friends- only to find some things are missing.





	And With a Bang

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains descriptions of torture, violence, blood and other possibly upsetting content. Read with caution!

Parker's death was quiet and painless. 

Okay, maybe there was a little pain, but it wasn't awful. The fall was long and she had shut her eyes during it, landed flat on her back and was dead the moment she hit the ground. The pain was sharp, but gone in an instant. She didn't know exactly what happened- she figured she set up her cords wrong or maybe her new partner sabotaged her for a better pay out. It wouldn't surprise her, he was a fresh face and Parker didn't trust him farther than she could throw him. They were running a con and Parker was taking half the pay to give to the victims- no one was willing to work with Leverage's MO anymore, but she did what she could now that she was alone. But now, she guessed her new partner would take the whole one hundred percent. At least the mark was out of business, regardless. 

Parker felt her body hit the ground and was engulfed by pain for less than a second before she was launched into a completely different setting, one that was painted white and fluffy and there were hoards of beautiful people with bright shining wings and golden necklaces, entirely different from the dark lighting of the elevator shaft that only she seemed to exist in. 

Parker sat up and reached behind to rub her back, groaning quietly even though there was only a phantom pain and not a real one. An angel, or a least someone she assumed was an angel, one with a face that part her felt familiar with approached her and outstretched it's hand. She took it hesitantly and pulled herself up. She looked down at her clothes, dressed up in all black from the mission, and felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. The angel took her hand in its own and smiled at her brighter than before.

"Parker," it smiled. "What a life you've lived. One filled with triumphs and darkness, and so much happiness. You did great things Parker, things no one had ever tried before. Heaven welcomes you. Allow me to lead you to your friends, they'll be excited to see you."

The angel held her wrist gently and began to walk away from the literal golden gates. (If it were possible, Parker might've considered stealing them.) They walked for what felt like a very long time, wandering down hallways of large, tall doors with golden handles, each numbered and named. Parker glanced at each, trying to read the names as they passed but they were walking too fast for her to read much. Eventually they came to a door and stopped. 

"Now, when you have further questions, you can get ahold of me, or really any angel you need by just thinking of us. Your friends should be able to answer a lot of them, though." The angel tapped on the door three times and then pulled the door open, and Parker was overjoyed with what she saw.

The room was some strange mix of the Leverage offices and Nate's apartment. There were tall glass windows on one side showing a view of the city, Portland she recognized, and a desk in the center, tall monitors opposite it. There was a large kitchen and stairs that led upwards, Parker didn't know where to. She took a few steps in, bringing her hands together and glancing around. The door shut behind her and she turned for only a second before a voice broke out in the silence.

"Parker!" 

Then, it was followed by a crash as a bottle of orange soda slipped from Hardison's hands and he forgot it, rushing forwards and throwing his arms around Parker. He was crying and laughing and smiling and squeezing her, and she was laughing and crying and smiling too. He showered her in kisses and she replied the same, her feet no longer touching the ground and he lifted her and began to swing her around in the air. 

"What's all the noise?" Nate's voice was gruff and grumpy, and he was wearing pajama bottoms and a robe. Parker saw his eyes widen and then he rushed back up the stairs, coming back down only a second later with Sophie in tow.

Suddenly, they were all wrapped up together in a group hug and everyone was so happy and so alive, which Parker, of course, found ironic considering everything. She'd missed them- she'd missed them all so much, and she was overjoyed to see them here, together.

It had been ten years since Nate died, nine and a half since Sophie. They had gone out of the same job, but Nate's part came much earlier and Sofie was killed later in the aftermath of revenge. But it was short, both of them got a well placed bullet and that was the end of that. Parker, Hardison, and especially Eliot all blamed themselves. The team never should've broken up, Nate and Sophie never should've taken that stupid job and if they had, they should've asked them for help. That job was too big for two people, and Nate and Sophie knew that. Leverage Inc. would've been there for them, had they reached out for the help. But they didn't, and it cost them. Nate would've said something about going out with a bang instead of a whisper if he had been at his own funeral. 

It had been four or five years since Hardison's, and no one could've prevented what happened to him. One day, he just got sick, and he spent the next few months in the best hospital with the best specialists money could buy, but it hadn't been enough. Cancer claimed him and Parker and Eliot mourned for a long time, crying over the man who balanced them out, who was the good neither of them could ever be. Parker didn't know how, but she knew Eliot had found a way to blame himself. He had grown more distant. 

Something hit Parker suddenly, and she felt her stomach twist.

It had been just under a year since Eliot's death. He had been working a job with Parker, but he was back at their office in the comms and Parker had Tara and a new hitter with her, someone who wanted to get into the business of helping people. Eliot had trained him for a few months and then they'd sent him in on the job. Of course, nothing could've prepared him for hearing Eliot's sudden shout and the breaking of glass, then several loud cracks and pops, all of which Parker thought were very distinctive- or the sound of Eliot's ragged breathing and the sounds of him choking on his own blood, or when his comms shut off and they were left with silence. 

Nothing could've prepared them for the sight they got when they got back to the office. The window was shattered, and the desk broken, floor boards split in half. Papers scattered everywhere, monitors ruined beyond repair. Eliot's body laying on the ground lifelessly, blood oozing from three bullet wounds to his abdomen, arms covered in welts and half formed bruises, leg twisted in a direction that it clearly did belong in, a knife sticking through his hand and four inches deep into the floorboards. The sight of Eliot's brains sprayed across the room made Parker vomit.

The news that Damien Moreau had escaped prison made her vomit again. 

The new hitter had killed Moreau four weeks later with a grand total of six bullets fired from his gun, only one winding up in his own body. That was the first time the hitter got blood on his hands, but he said it was for a good cause, and Parker agreed, but it didn’t solve her dilemma. 

If Eliot was dead, why wasn't he here?

Parker drew back from the hug, no longer smiling, a sight her friends weren't happy to see. Nate looked confused, Sophie concerned, and Hardison looked somewhat offended by her sadness. 

"Where's Eliot?" She asked. She saw Nate's brows draw together and watched Sophie do a double-take. She watched Hardison's mouth open and close wordlessly.

"We thought he was still with you," Nate said, and Sophie finished for him.

"We thought he was still alive."

"Is he-? Is Eliot dead?" Hardison asked hesitantly, throat going oddly tight considering he had just rejoiced in learning Parker was dead.

Parker nodded her head slowly, face clearly confused.

"Yeah. He died about a year back, he.. Moreau broke out of prison and killed Eliot. We got him back though. Moreau is dead."

"That doesn't explain where Eliot is, though," Nate stated plainly as though it wasn't obvious, completely ignoring news of Moreau's death. Then, he started to pace. "If Eliot is dead, why isn't he here? We're his family, aren't we?"

"We could-" 

Parker wasn't able to finish her thought before the angel appeared in the center of the room, still glowing like it had before but somehow sadder, somehow bluer.

"You had a question?" 

"Eliot Spencer," Hardison said quickly. "Where is Eliot Spencer?" 

It hardly came across as a question, rather a demand. A bark, even. The angel's face twisted into a frown, such an expression clearly didn't belong on such a being. It looked conflicted for a moment, and then it opened its mouth.

"Eliot Spencer is not in heaven."

"Then where is he?" Parker asked hesitantly.

"Eliot Spencer is in hell."

Suddenly, Parker was crying, reaching for Hardison and he was reaching for her. Sophie gasped and Nate's mouth fell open. Parker let go of Harrison, turning back to the angel, her face angry now.

"Why?" 

"I'm.. not sure I understand the question?" The angel replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Why's Eliot in hell?" Parker demanded, ignoring the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.

The angel closed its eyes and thought for a moment, recalling the numbers.

"Eliot Spencer... Hundreds of counts of murder. He's serving time, trying to get forgiveness from his victims."

"Wait- what?" Nate asked, taking a few steps towards the angel. "Serving time? What do you mean?"

"Once he has served penance for all his crimes, he'll be freed. But as of now, he still has a lengthy sentence. Unless he can get forgiveness from all of his victims, he has to serve the full term."

Parker felt the tears spill over her cheeks again and she turned to bury her head in Hardison's chest. She saw Sophie take Nate's hand in her own and they shared a hard, scared eye contact.

The angel frowned and apologized. "There's nothing that can be done. I'll allow you all time to accept this new information." It had said, and then disappeared in an instant.

"I can't believe Eliot's dead," Harrison whispered into Parker's hair, frowning deeply. "He’s just.. not the kinda person I could ever imagine dying, you know?" There was a beat of silence, the Hardison added, "Not that I imagined any of us dyin'. I was starting to think we were invincible."

A chill ran down Parker's spine, memories of Eliot's corpse flashing in her mind. At least when Hardison had died his body had been in one piece, they were able to give him a proper burial. Her mind went back to her own body for a moment- she wondered how long it'd be in that elevator shaft. She wondered what would lead to its discovery- a rancid smell? The decay? She wondered how long Tara would wait for her before she moved on. Days, maybe a few weeks? 

Would Parker even get a funeral? 

She didn't want to think about it.

Right now, she just wanted to spend time with her friends- the ones she could. 

"So," Hardison said, letting go of Parker and going back to the kitchen to grab a towel to mop up the long since forgotten spilled orange soda. "You're gonna have to catch us up in what happened after I died," Hardison smiled. "I got Sophie and Nate caught up to that point, but only you know what comes after."

Parker's internal voice argued that Eliot did too, that they should find him, but she was tired. Dying took a lot out of a person! 

So for now, she'd rest, she'd tell them about all the things she and Eliot had done while they had been alive, and she wouldn't forget him.

////

Parker got carried away easily, talking about all the things they'd done.

She talked about their reunion with Tara, how she'd scored something big and had considered retiring but couldn't get herself to settle down, but she was getting too old to work alone, really they all were, so she took the spot of grifter in Eliot and Parker's team.

She talked about how she had tried her best to be the mastermind, and she was proud of herself for doing a decent job, at the least. How Quinn had stepped in the help sometimes when Eliot was out of commission, how they could never find a hacker as brilliant as Hardison no matter how hard they tried.

She talked about how happy she was to have helped people. How she felt like that made her life worth something.

And then, came the question. 

"How did you die?"

Nate was the one who asked and Hardison winced when he did. Hardison's death had probably been the slowest of all of them, his illness taking several months before it'd claimed him completely. He had gone in his sleep at the least, but the discomfort that haunted his last time on earth was enough to make the idea of death, more so the process of dying, make him uncomfortable.

Parker admitted that she didn't know the exact circumstances of her death, just that one moment she was working a con and the next she was plummeting down an elevator shaft. She mentioned that the crew hadn't had a hitter that time round and she hadn't trusted the thief they had step in for a little, only because the job was too big for just Parker. She said she figured it was sabotage. No way after so many careful years and successful heists would she have messed up her pulleys, that sabotage had to have been the only way.

"It... it wasn't long, was it?" Hardison asked hesitantly, voice quiet. Parker shook her head no, then explaining that it was all pretty sudden.

"The worst part was probably the shock of my lines snapping," She said, "Not the landing." 

Hardison nodded, seeming somewhat calmed. Then, Sophie asked an awful, awful question.

"And what about Eliot?" 

The subject had been taboo, Parker had noticed. She had unintentionally been avoiding his name best she could, not wanting to think of him being in hell. She still refused that as his fate. Eliot had saved them all, he'd saved their whole team more times than Parker could count, that had to mean something.

Sophie must've seen the way her eyes widened because suddenly she was dropping the question, apologizing for even asking.

"No, it's okay," Parker interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was just.."

"You said earlier that Moreau broke out of prison?" Nate promoted and Parker nodded.

"Yeah," She mumbled. "Moreau got out and... He and some of his men set out to get revenge on Eliot. We were working a case and we had been training a new hitter, he had heard about Leverage Inc. and wanted to get in on it, I think we might've helped his dad. Either way, Eliot was at the office and.. I don't know, Moreau showed up and..."

She paused for a moment and kept herself gagging. 

"It was bad. Really bad."

Hardison looked at her sadly and reached for her hand, Nate and Sophie exchanging a look, both considering whether or not they should press further.

"Moreau didn't even... he didn't even try to hide from our security cameras, he knew there was nothing we could do with it anyway. Eliot's a hitter- the government wouldn't care if we turned Moreau in for killing him. So he.. looked right at the camera when he.. He smiled at it- when."

She was silent for a moment, grip tightening on Hardison's hand. She took a deep breath and let it go, looking up to her teammates.

"Eliot was already down," She started over. "Moreau and his men broke in and shot him once- he fought back. There were too many of them- even for Eliot. They shot him two more times.. it took them breaking his leg before he went down. And then.. Moreau stood over him, put a foot on Eliot's back and took his comms out of his ear and broke it on the ground. And then he.. stabbed a knife through Eliot's hand."

She swallowed, recalling the security footage she had hesitantly watched as best she could, trying not to get overwhelmed by it.

"One of the men left the room and came back with a crowbar. And Moreau beat Eliot with it himself- for a long time. I don't... I couldn't even tell if Eliot was alive at that point. He looked... he looked so broken."

This time Hardison's grip tightened and Parker could see Sophie's eyes get wet and Nate's hands move to hold his head. She heard Sophie's breath hitch and Hardison's small curses. Saw the devastation in Nate's sad eyes. Eliot Spencer wasn't a man made for dying. 

But he was dead.

"I know he was alive though 'cause.. I heard him begging on the video."

That, that hit them all hard. Hardison squeezed her hand again, but he was not looking at her. He had a hand covering his mouth and his eyes were wet. Sophie had tears dripping down her cheeks and she was scrubbing at them miserably, and there was an emotion Parker didn't recognize sitting on Nate's face. She'd never been good with emotions.

"I'd never heard Eliot sound that desperate before.. He was saying something about needing to protect someone.. I don't know- he kept coughing and- and I didn't matter either way because Moreau wasn't listening. He... he looked at the camera and smiled. One-one of the men handed Moreau a-a gun. And, and he..."

Parker wasn't sure when she started crying, wasn't sure when Hardison had wrapped himself around her and her head had become buried in his shoulder. She wasn't sure when Nate and Sophie had moved into a similar position.

"He whispered something to Eliot's and there-there was this look of shock on Eliot's face. I-I don't know what Moreau said to him- it was quiet. Moreau put the gun against the back of Eliot's head... and..."

Parker didn't finish the sentence, they all knew how it ended. Instead, she started a new one.

"That new hitter we'd been training- he was furious. Insisted on avenging his mentor- something like that. I don't know how Quinn found out but he did, and they were off. They'd ask me and Tara for help every once and awhile but they seemed to want to do it on their own. 

“Moreau's dead. They killed him, and his empire crumbled. Our new hitter dirtied his hands but... Eliot was his mentor. He said it was justified- that Moreau deserved it."

There was a silence, and then Nate mumbled that he agreed.

"It isn't right," Sophie said suddenly. 

"What isn't?" Nate asked.

"That Eliot is in hell," Sophie hissed, sounding disgusted by the very idea of it. 

"He did lots of bad things," Nate said, devil's advocate as always, but still frowning.

"He did lots of good too," Hardison said sharply. "He helped people. He protected us! He saved lives!"

"He ended lives," A new voice said. They all turned their heads to an angel that had appeared in the room, it's energy a red tint now. 

"You can't be both. You can't be a hero and a murder. You choose what you are," The angel said. "You do all things for good or you are bad. Eliot Spencer was bad."

"I commit crimes. I'm a thief- and Sophie's a grifter! Hardison's a hacker! We've all committed crimes- we've broken the law! Why aren't we in hell too?" Parker yelled suddenly, fists clenching at her sides.

The angel turned to her, maintaining its calm. "Heaven doesn't have laws like that. Material things are insignificant to us- we are divine- we're above that. Eliot Spencer was a murderer, hundred of counts of murder. We cannot tolerate that. He has a sentence to pay for his crimes."

Parker's face contorted but Nate nodded solemnly- something that only made Parker angrier. 

"But he regretted it. He didn't do that anymore- not when he started working with us. He helped us save an entire city from that flu- does that not matter to you?"

"Of course it does, that work helped him decrease his sentence largely. But it still exists."

Parker looked like she was about to saying something but Hardison cut her off, grabbing her hand to calm her.

"How long?" Hardison asked, voice close to breaking.

"Time works differently in heaven than in hell- and both separate from earth. Time moves slower in hell- medium on earth and relative here. But for you all he'll be in hell..."

The angel paused, thinking for a moment.

"Fifteen years at least- thirteen at most."

Parker's breath hitched and Sophie looked angry.

"Isn't this place supposed to be happy?" Sophie bit out, moving toward the angel, Nate trailing behind her.

The angel turned to her, confused.

"Are you not happy?" It replied.

"Of course not!" Parker spat, eyes wet. "Eliot- we need Eliot! We need to-to all be together!" 

Angel looked sad then, but only for a moment. Then, it looked conflicted.

"Perhaps we could... work out an arrangement."

"What kind of arrangement?" Nate asked, brows knit together.

"Visiting hours," the angel replied. "You all will be allowed to visit him- but he will still be required to finish out his sentence."

Nate looked to the others, who all nodded lightly in the reply. He turned back to the angel.

"We'll take it."

/////

Hell was scarier than Eliot expected. And he had expected it to be bad.

Somehow, it managed to exceed his expectations.

He was in a dark, long room. It smelled like fire and ash and piss and vomit- there was blood staining the floor and his arms were hoisted up in chains, legs locked to the floor with chains on his ankles. His feet were bare and his body was mainly naked- a pair of dark shorts on his legs but that was the extent of the coverage. His body was cold despite the heat and there was blood dripping from his nose.

There was a lineup miles long, if he turned his head far enough he could see them. Hundreds of thousands of hitters and killers and politicians, sinners and murderers and he was disgusted to think he was one of them.

There were bullet holes in his body, ones from his last session of memories. Holes that he got in his own, real, living body and ones that mirrored ones he put in others. His body ached from bruises and the wounds, patches of his hair missing from a few days ago. That wasn’t the worst of it, though.

Chapman was in the spot next to Eliot. Taunting him, teasing. Damien was right next to him on the opposite side. They spat on him, taunted him, calling at him.

"Down with the dog," Damien would sneer.

Eliot wanted to stop existing- to just disappear. His didn't care if there was a heaven. He wanted away from the monsters he thought he'd finally escaped from so many years ago- and then again in San Lorenzo.

It didn't matter that they came back with bullets in their bodies and deep stab wounds just like he did. Eliot had tried to be a good person. Chapman and Moreau never did. He didn't care if he was in hell- he just didn't want to be near them.

And Moreau would brag, brag, brag about slamming his boots into Eliot's sides, about beating his bones into nothingness, about putting the gun against his skull and pulling the trigger. He told Chapman about how Eliot broke, how he begged for his life. And Chapman would laugh.

Eliot regretted every second of it. Begging for his life, pathetically, even when he knew that no way in hell would Damien Moreau let someone like Eliot throw him in jail without consequence. Moreau hardly let people leave his side alive. Betraying him? Big mistake. Eliot had known the Moreau would be the death of him. But he begged anyway.

He wondered silently how Parker coped with it. Neither of them did well when Hardison went out. How did she fare without him?

Eliot did his best to distract himself from his situation. He forced his brain to think about his friends and family, Nate and Sophie and Parker and Hardison, the people he knew like Quinn and Sterling and how, even if he hated them, giving either a kiss on the lips would be better than this. 

It was hard to focus on the good things about his life topside with Damien and Chapman's voices filling his ears and violating every part of his being, but he was getting better at it. Damien didn't seem pleased that he was no longer squirming at their taunts. Eliot didn't understand why they were allowed to get joy out of tormenting him when they were in hell just like him.

He learned quickly not to question the beings there. 

He wouldn't call them demons, but they weren't angels either. They were bright and blinding but when they came at him they were red and angry. Plus, he refused to believe angels knew how to make a man scream like they did. 

His chains were tighter than normal one particular day, Damien and Chapman silent by his sides for once. They were both resting, only recently released from their daily torture, and Eliot knew that after them both, he was usually next. He bit his lip and wondered what it would be today.

The warehouse- the bullets he had used to kill twenty men imbedded in his body instead of theirs. Or maybe the worst thing he'd ever done. Maybe it'd be the bright, blue, sad eyes of the first man he ever killed staring back at him. He'd feel the sensation of pulling the trigger of his rifle over and over, feel blood pouring from his victim and then from his own abdomen. Maybe they'd put him out of his misery this time.

He knew it wouldn't be the last one, but he needed something to hold onto it.

Just as he expected, the beings came to get him quickly. They unhooked his tight cuffs from the chain that hung from the ceiling and unlatched his ankles. They yanked him up by his underarms and he groaned in reply, wounds from the previous few days aching from the movement.

He was used to going left from his slot but they took him right this time. While he was surprised, he didn't say anything. His leg screamed out in pain with every step but it was starting to numb, or he was getting more used to it. At some point he'd have to get used to the physical pain- he didn't know what they'd start doing to him after that.

They came up to a door, tall and gray and rusty, and pulled it open. The room was surprisingly large, and the walls were plain, but somewhat nice. The floor was dirty and stained though, probably from drops of blood like the ones leaking from the wounds in his leg. There was a long, metal table and a matching uncomfortable looking chair. The beings directed him to it and sat down, then connected his wrist chains to a hook on the table.

He watched in silence as they dragged in chairs and placed them on the opposite sides of the table, one of them coming over to him and cleaning the worst of the blood off of him and removing yesterday's bullets. He was surprised by that too, but didn't say anything still.

Then, they left. And left him to wonder what his torture would be.

The thing most similar to this that he could remember them doing was having a woman come in, an older woman who he recognized only vaguely. Eliot soon became aware that he killed her and her two children- a bomb he planted. She slit his throat and left him coughing up blood, a wound that should be fatal, and yet he unable to die. 

His heart pounded in his chest as he counted the seats in front of him. There were four seats, four victims. He heard the door behind him open and his body tensed without his consent.

He heard the being say, "An hour. If you need anything, just call to us. Alright?"

Eliot felt thousands of different emotions pass through him when he heard the reply.

"Alright. Thank you, again," Nate's ever calm voice rang out. 

Eliot tried to stand but was reminded of the chains golding him down. He looked over his shoulder only to be greeted with the sad faces of all of his friends- all the people in his life that were important to him. They moved to sit in the chairs in front of him and Eliot lowered himself back into his own. His eyes were wide and he was shocked and confused.

"What's going on?" He asked, his heart pounding in his chest because surely, surely, they couldn't be here to torture him. They couldn't be- he refused to believe that.

"We were able to make a deal so we could visit you," Sophie said, smiling softly. She looked so sad, and Eliot hated every second of it.

"Why?" He said hesitantly, voice feeling caught in his throat. Hardison and Parker looked offended by his question.

"Because we care about you, Eliot," Hardison mumbled.

Parker frowned when Eliot looked surprised. She noticed suddenly that he was staring at her, surprised and sad at the same time.

"What?" She asked, starting to grow uncomfortable under his gaze.

"You're dead?" 

Parker nodded light and Eliot's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. He thought for a little, then settled for a sentence.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything," Parker said and Eliot shook his head.

"What happened?"

Parker glanced at Sophie nervously and she nodded, and Parker explained quickly. Betrayal and death taking her fast. She emphasized that it didn't hurt- she didn't suffer.

Eliot still frowned.

A heavy silence swallowed them, Eliot keeping his eyes glued to the table and not saying a word. Finally, he looked up.

"I'm sorry."

He swallowed roughly, only giving a second for Sophie to start talking before he cut her off.

"I shoulda- I should've been there to protect you. All of you. That's my job and I failed you-"

"Eliot." Nate looked sad, but his voice was commanding. He uncrossed his arms to lean on the table.

"You didn't do anything wrong, you took good care of us." 

Eliot nodded, his frown breaking and eyes watering, even though he was trying to hide it.

"You don't have to feel sorry. You didn't do anything. How many times did you save our asses? How many times did you get hurt for us?"

Eliot didn't answer, but he seemed to understand Nate's point.

"Don't be sorry for anything. You protected us. We're trying to get you out of here," Nate continued. "You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be in hell."

Nate was met with a short laugh, and Eliot lowered his head.

"If anyone, I think I should be the judge of that. I knew I'd end up here," He said solemnly. "I just.. didn't expect it to be quiet like this. Don't know what I expected, honestly."

Hardison looked uncomfortable, Sophie even more so. Parker glanced to them, eyes wide. Nate looked nervous to, which was an expression Eliot hadn't seen in a long time. Eliot knew they were curious, but he'd spare them details.

"There's less fire and brimstone than I expected. It's more like being a prisoner of war, ‘cept worse." 

Eliot stopped there and decided not to say anything more.

"We got him, by the way," Parker said, smiling carefully. 

"What?" 

"Moreau. He's outta the way. He can't hurt anyone anymore. We- I. I wasn't there to protect you from him- but we made sure he can't hurt anyone. Quinn and the new guy. We took him down."

Eliot nodded hesitantly, eyes wide, glancing at the door for a moment and then looking back to Parker. 

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Thank you."

/////

Till their hour of time was up, the gang caught up on all the time they had missed with each other. Parker started to tell Eliot the stories she had told Nate, Sophie and Hardison, all the things he had missed when he was gone to the world.

Hardison and Parker each took one of Eliot's hands, still barred to the table, and held on. It had been so long, far too long, since they had all been together.

Hardison eyes were soft, Sophie and Parker's wet, and Nate's were sad and distant. Eliot looked happy to see them, trying to take them in, make them his world while he could.

Their time didn't last long enough.

Soon the the beings, the angels, reappeared and took him. They released him from the table and tightened his cuffs, one of them shoving him out of the room roughly. The other looked at the rest as Eliot looked over his shoulder sadly, desperately, and almost tripped over his chains. 

Nate moved to stand, the others following suit, and he moved toward the angel.

“Don't you dare hurt him,” Hardison spat.

The angel smirked then.

“Oh don't worry, that's not my job.”

Parker started to charge, but Nate held her back. 

“When will we get to see him again?”

“Once a month,” the angel replied.

“Every day.”

“Every two weeks,” the angel replied.

“Once a week.”

“Fine,” the angel hissed. 

The angel took them back to heaven and left them on their doorstep.

/////

“Nate, what are we going to do?” Sophie asked, leaning onto the kitchen counter with a cup of tea in her hands.

“We aren't leaving him down there, are we?” Parker questioned, wrapping her arms around Hardison, who added, “We can't. Can we?”

“No,” he said into his glass of whiskey. “We’re gonna steal hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> In not sure if this will be continued, but I had a lot of fun writing it!  
> Comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!
> 
> Following my writing blog, educationaladmiral on tumblr!


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